


After the Storm

by Ripki



Series: The Team Trope Collection [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker is Trying, Curtain Fic, Domestic, Family, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M, Obi-Wan Kenobi is Trying, Parenthood, Past Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Supportive Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27473788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ripki/pseuds/Ripki
Summary: If asked a year ago where he would be in the future, Obi-Wan would never have imagined himself in the middle of nowhere, mending socks and discussing latrine maintenance.A portrait of a family after the storm.Trope: curtain fic + kid fic
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Anakin Skywalker, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Leia Organa, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Series: The Team Trope Collection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2002135
Comments: 34
Kudos: 155





	1. Obi-Wan

The door was stuck again; Obi-Wan pushed it hard with his left shoulder, aching tendons and muscles protesting. In his right hand, the bucket swayed alarmingly, sloshing some of the waste to the floor. Finally, the swollen wood gave way and the door banged open with a loud _thud_ that reverberated through the small cottage. Obi-Wan stood still, listening. He heaved a sigh of relief, when the house stayed blessedly silent, and carefully pressed the door close behind him as he stepped into the yard.

The persistent rain had beaten down all the plants in the tiny garden, had turned the narrow path to a mudbath. Obi-Wan trudged to the back of the property, sludge squelching under his worn boots. The wind was still howling as it raced across the open hillside, tearing at the few lonely trees. It pushed and prodded, made him stumble as he peered up at the cottage roof, the early morning shrouding everything in hazy dimness. It looked like the structure had held.

The latrine was a different matter; only ramshackle walls remained. The simple plank wood roof and door had been ripped off, and were probably miles away already. The heavy iron spade was still on its customary spot, leaning against the latrine wall, blade a few inches in the ground. Obi-Wan picked up the tool and started to dig, cold already settling under his skin. Beneath the layer of mud, the earth was hard and rocky, resisting every shove deeper. He contented with a shallow hole, pouring the bucket of waste into it. Before shovelling soil over it, he unfastened his trousers with numb fingers, quickly emptying his bladder.

Task finished, he stood there for a moment, looking at the dark grey sky. Hiding the stars, it spread out over the wide land, over the pitiful garden, over the little house, blanketing them all with a rolling sea of rain-heavy clouds. Everything looked small and apart.

Empty bucket in hand, Obi-Wan returned to the cottage, skin tingling from the cold. He wrestled the door open, gladly getting out from the clutches of the beating wind. On the table, the lone candle was still burning inside the lantern, flickering light casting long shadows upon the room. He peeled off his boots, leaving them beside the door to be cleaned later. Even with the woollen socks, the floor felt cool. The fireplace remained unlit; a small pile of firewood, ever dwindling, was stacked against the wall. They would have to find more soon, when the weather finally cleared.

As silently as he could, Obi-Wan felt his way around the contents of a disorderly cupboard, finally finding an old rag. Knees creaking, he knelt down to wipe the spilled waste and muddy footprints from the floor. Then he rinsed the rag and the bucket in the battered sink, using the rainwater stored in a big barrel. It too would need to be filled soon. 

The hinges of the door to the back room squeaked, inevitably announcing his arrival. Obi-Wan paused at the doorway, looking into the unlit space. Eyes quickly growing accustomed to darkness, he easily made out the silhouette of the boarded-up window, the rickety chest of drawers, and the bed that took most of the room. A mound of blankets filled the narrow double bed, Obi-Wan’s robe topmost in the pile. Tufts of hair and a sliver of forehead were only just visible, peeking from the nest. Tiptoeing to the side closest to the draughty window, Obi-Wan carefully lifted the coverings and slid into the bed fully clothed.

The sudden warmth made him shiver violently, accentuated every weary muscle and aching bone. He drew one of the blankets partly over his head, breathing in the stale heated air of the cocoon. A small body shifted and huddled up closer to him, a snuffling nose pressing into the crook of his neck. With care, Obi-Wan wrapped his arm around Leia, mindful of his still cold hands.

 _It’s too early_ , whispered Anakin in Obi-Wan’s mind. _You didn’t have to do it at this hour._ His presence, bleary from interrupted rest, brushed against Obi-Wan, coiling around him like warm fingers twining around a wrist.

 _I had to go in any case._ That was certainly true, but the stronger motivation had been the thought of the twins squirming with the need to use the filled-to-the-brim bucket, and the following mad dash to empty it or find something else suitable.

 _It’s going to rain again soon._ Outside, the inky clouds gathered above the house, hanging heavy and low. Perhaps thunder would join in, crashing against the hillside with such fury it would scare the children awake. The wind was almost as bad; as it clawed at the walls of the cottage with a high, thready sound, it made Luke whimper, but luckily the boy settled quickly when drawn closer to his father’s chest.

Anakin’s foot came to rest right next his own; Obi-Wan could feel the warmth of his skin through their threadbare socks. A hint of alarm crept into Anakin’s drowsy mood. _How bad is the damage?_

 _Nothing we cannot fix._ Obi-Wan nudged him towards sleep, discreetly urging Anakin to join the twins in their peaceful dreams. The last of the cold had finally receded from his worn bones, and the creeping exhaustion slowly dragged him towards rest.

Obi-Wan fell asleep listening to the wind, thinking about the stars.

~o~

By the next afternoon, the weather had calmed. The sky was light blue and cloudless, and every colour looked faded under the pale sunlight. The wind had a bite to it still, but its wails had turned into faint whispers. Obi-Wan stood in the yard, ostensibly taking stock of the garden, but in reality, he was watching the twins, the sun no match for their bright wide grins. Cooped up indoors for too long, Luke and Leia had refused to stay inside, and now they shrieked and hollered as they chased each other around the property. Obi-Wan had judged that having to wash both muddy clothes and muddy children was a small price to pay to avoid any further tantrums.

Most of what had been planted in the garden had been torn up, and it was quick work to collect the uprooted plants. He took the half-full basket of herbs and vegetables into the house, setting it on the scuffed table. Shutters open, light seeped through the dirty windowpane, revealing the layers of dust on the sparsely furnished main room. Obi-Wan resolved to clean it soon; perhaps on his next trip to the village, he could get some better furnishings, something that would make the cottage look and feel more of a home.

When he returned outside, the twins were no longer running around. Instead, they were peering inside the partially broken latrine with morbid curiosity. Obi-Wan joined them, surveying the extent of the damage. In the daylight, the simple structure seemed easy enough to fix, but would certainly require materials they didn’t currently have. He would have to make the long trek to the village sooner than planned.

“There’s nowhere to pee now,” Leia announced gleefully. She hated using the latrine after dark, although, when weather permitted it, either Obi-Wan or Anakin always took the twins there, holding on to their small hands as they stumbled across the yard.

“There’s the bucket,” Obi-Wan reminded her evenly.

“ _Ugh_.” Luke wrinkled up his nose, perfectly capturing all of their feelings on the matter. Luke glanced up at him, and Obi-Wan could tell that the boy wanted to say something else. On the surface of Luke’s mind was a clear image of a gleaming white refresher, efficient and clean. Obi-Wan was selfishly glad, when Luke stayed silent. Leia, probably sensing her brother’s homesickness, pressed Luke for another game; soon the twins were again romping around, the latrine or the lack of it forgotten.

Obi-Wan told them to remain in the yard, and after getting solemn promises from both, went inside. Even without a direct line of sight, it was easy to keep track of the twins, as they shined so brightly in the Force – and their loud voices told him exactly where they were and what they were doing. He listened to the game of tag as he peeled vegetables and prepared the meat, the heavy aroma of cooking food rousing his hunger.

When the pot was simmering on the old burner, Obi-Wan stepped outside to call the children in. The sun was low on the horizon, the sky a motley mix of purple and wine-red. The steep hillside cast its long shadow over the surrounding land like an inky blanket, trying to hide the twins from his searching gaze. Their small forms were just visible on the edge of the property, crouched low on the ground. There was no one else around for miles; the three of them were quite alone.

Luke and Leia dashed inside in a tangle of limbs, too tired from their roughhousing to behave themselves. Leia flung her boots and jacket pell-mell on the floor and refused to pick them up; Luke tried to rush straight to the table, demanding food. Both of them burst into tears of exhausted frustration, when Obi-Wan reprimanded them and ordered them to stand in the corner beside the water barrel. With twin expressions of sullen dismay, they endured silently Obi-Wan’s efforts to get them clean enough for supper.

Next hurdle was the absence of Anakin; excited by the freedom of the outdoors, the twins hadn’t thought to miss him. But as Obi-Wan closed the shutters against the approaching dark, Luke stared at the empty seat at the table, small face drawn into anxious lines.

“Where’s daddy?”

“He is gathering firewood,” Obi-Wan reminded them, wincing when Leia banged her spoon loudly against the table top.

“It’s dark!”

“He’ll be here soon,” Obi-Wan promised, hoping that would turn out to be true. Anakin’s presence was a steady beat at the back of his mind, but the _feel_ of him was distant and fragmented. He was certainly nowhere near.

Luckily the twins were too hungry to refuse food. When they had wolfed down their supper, it was clear it was time for bed. Their eyes were slipping shut, and Luke was already half-dozing, in danger of face planting straight into his empty soup bowl. Nonetheless, they predictably kicked up a fuss, claiming they weren’t tired _at all_ and they wanted to stay up to wait for Anakin.

After a great battle of wills, Obi-Wan managed to cajole them into brushing their teeth at the sink. That victory was short lived however, and more protests followed as Obi-Wan steered them firmly to the back room, where he oversaw them changing into their pyjamas. While he looked for warmer socks for Luke, Leia slipped out of the room, her small feet thudding across the floor. Obi-Wan finished tucking Luke to bed, socks and all, and then went to get the errant twin. Leia was shedding angry tears, her small hands yanking at the doorhandle to no avail as she tried to open the barred front door.

“I want daddy!” She sobbed as Obi-Wan lifted her up. “I want _mommy_.”

“I know,” he said, her surging grief tugging at his heart. He rocked her a little, wrapping calm and peace and safety around her.

“I hate you!” Leia shrieked and then fell abruptly silent, hiccupping.

Obi-Wan carried her to bed and stroked her downy head until she was fast asleep.

~o~

The sun was long gone, when Anakin finally returned to the cottage.

Obi-Wan had spent the evening busying himself with different tasks. He had done the dishes and cleaned up the small kitchen nook, had wiped the dust from the rest of the room. Keeping a small fire burning in the fireplace, he sat at the table, carefully dismantling his lightsaber. He took his time cleaning and assembling the weapon, its design and structure – the grooves, the heft, the gently vibrating kyber crystal – still an integral part of him.

Anakin came inside as silently as he could, clearly not wanting to wake the twins. In the firelight his eyes looked dark and wild, as he glanced at Obi-Wan from behind a tangle of windswept hair. He put down the large load of firewood strapped to his back; the long roam across the hillside hadn’t been completely without a practical purpose then.

“There’s some supper left,” Obi-Wan said, keeping his voice low.

Anakin yanked off his dirty boots and stripped off his outer garments, until he was clad only in socks, trousers and a dark undertunic. The clothes were left in a heap by the door as Anakin headed straight for the food. He smelled strongly of outdoors, of the fresh earth and sharp air.

While Anakin heated the left-over supper, Obi-Wan fetched a needle and some thread from the cupboard. Earlier, he had gathered up the clothes that needed mending, most of them Luke’s and Leia’s. As he darned a sock, Anakin joined him at the table, taking his customary seat opposite Obi-Wan. He started eating the soup straight from the pot.

“I found the latrine door.” Anakin’s voice was scratchy; Obi-Wan hoped he hadn’t managed to catch a cold. If he had, they would all suffer from it soon. “I think I can get it fixed and put into place tomorrow.”

“We still need a roof,” Obi-Wan remarked. He squinted at the small thread, managing to prick his finger with the needle.

“Do we?” A slow grin took over Anakin’s face, made him suddenly look boyish again. “It could be nice to look at the stars, when taking a dump.”

“And if it’s raining?”

Anakin shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “We’ll use the bucket.”

“If you empty it,” Obi-Wan said wryly, the absurdity of the conversation not escaping his notice. If asked a year ago where he would be in the future, he would never have imagined himself in the middle of nowhere, mending socks and discussing latrine maintenance.

“Okay, I’ll get you a new roof,” Anakin agreed readily, lapping up the rest of his soup in companionable silence. Obi-Wan started on another sock.

When he had finished eating, Anakin took a few sticks from the woodpile and stoked the fire. The flames rose higher, bathing the room in a warm glow. At Obi-Wan’s pointed look, Anakin rinsed the pot and put it back to its customary place. He returned to the table with an almost empty bottle of spotchka.

“How was it today, with the twins? Did they give you a hard time?” Anakin’s broad shoulder brushed against his as he took a seat next to Obi-Wan. He sounded apologetic.

“It was fine,” Obi-Wan assured him, putting his mending efforts aside. “I thought we were saving that.”

The dregs of the blue liquid sloshed inside the bottle as Anakin set it on the table, right next to Obi-Wan’s lightsaber. “We’ve got this far – I think it merits some recognition.” His shadowy gaze was fixed on the saber instead of the bottle. The air was heavy with all the things they hadn’t said.

“Fair enough.” Obi-Wan took the spotchka, tipping it towards Anakin. “To getting this far…to perseverance.” Enjoying an idle moment at last, he held back from fetching the cups Anakin had no doubt purposefully forgotten, and drank straight from the bottle. The sip of liquor burned his throat in the best possible way, hot and bitter. 

“Do you regret it?” Anakin did not have to elaborate what _it_ meant.

Obi-Wan thought about the expanse of land around them, wide and remote and hard. The storms that flung roofs and tore trees and banged against the walls. The cold that crept in. The rain and the toil and the stars that were further away every day.

He thought about muddy clothes and tantrums and sullen silence. Grief that some days sucked all the air from around him. He thought about the small bodies burrowing into him, peaceful in their sleep. The warmth of an arm around his shoulder. Kisses against his cheek. The way clear bright voices said _daddy_.

“I don’t regret a thing”, he said. It was the truth.


	2. Twins

They woke up and it was cosy and warm in their nest, like inside a small tent, the one where they had slept when they had been camping when they were little. Toes curling, Leia pushed herself upwards, until her face finally peeked out from under the heavy blankets. The air in the room was cool. Luke’s head emerged next to her, his hair sticking up. It was dim, because there were no lights and the window was shut with the big board. But it was morning, and they had slept forever and they weren’t even a little bit sleepy anymore.

Daddy and Obi-Wan were still asleep, so they had to be quiet, and they could hear the soft pitter-patter of rain against the roof. Leia hated the rain, and Luke didn’t like it very much anymore either. It had rained days and days and then there had been a real storm, ripping trees and howling like a beast and there had been loud thunder too, and they could tell that Daddy and Obi-Wan were worried. They hadn’t let Leia and Luke go out at all, not even to the latrine. They had to use the gross bucket.

They tried to be quiet, so Luke nudged Leia with his mind. He wanted to play the picture game and Leia agreed, even though she would have rather gotten up and played with their toy ship. Because of that it was fair that Leia got to begin first; she sent Luke a picture of a grassy clearing, surrounded by tall, green trees. The sky above them was deep blue, Leia’s favourite colour. Luke knew the place right away, just as Leia had known he would. It was the place, where Daddy had taken them to practise using the Force. But that had been _before_ ; here the sky was not the same colour, even when there were no clouds.

Then it was Luke’s turn and he thought about the hangar full of fast ships, and there was Daddy’s starfighter too, it was the best one. Next, Leia showed the tiny storage room, where she had gone to hide when they had played hide-and-seek, or when she had been mad and hadn’t wanted anyone to find her. For some time, they sent pictures back and forth, but when Luke imagined a red scarf, Leia didn’t want to think about it. It was boring and she was too hot under the blankets and she didn’t want to play the stupid game anymore.

They were squashed against each other; Leia shoved Luke back, but Luke couldn’t get away much, for there was Daddy’s big chest and arms, unmovable. Obi-Wan was sleeping behind Leia, and his arm brushed her side, heavy. She wanted to get up, so she wriggled herself downwards, slithering like an eel on her belly under the covers, until she reached the foot of the bed. Luke yelped, when she hit his stomach – by accident! – and that woke Daddy up.

When she dropped to the floor, Leia noticed that Daddy had lifted his head from the pillow and was squinting at her. “Do you need to go?” He whispered, meaning _the bucket_. Leia shook her head quickly. Luke tried to clamber over Daddy, but got tangled up in the blankets; Daddy sighed and lifted him by the armpits, swinging him from the bed.

“Can you play quietly in there?” Daddy asked, meaning the front room, where their ship and some other toys were. Leia and Luke nodded, because Obi-Wan was still sleeping, and they could be good and quiet. Daddy smiled a little and said, “I’ll be there soon to make some breakfast.”

They tiptoed out of the room really silently, but the bedroom door banged shut behind them. Luke felt bad, because Daddy had told them to be quiet, but Leia did not think it was their fault. There was some light in the main room, because on the table was the lantern, and inside it a small candle was still burning. Leia went to the trunk in the corner and started taking out their toys: the pilot doll and her helmet, the collection of cards, the wooden game board and pieces, the stack of flimsy and various pencils, the model ship. All of them clattered to the floor loudly.

“We’re supposed to be quiet!” Luke hissed.

Leia stuck out her tongue and grabbed the ship; she wanted to play rebels and pirates. Luke would have liked to be the rebel pilot, but Leia insisted it was her turn, although it wasn’t. But because Luke had made her sad picturing mommy’s red scarf, he agreed to be the pirate. He dragged a chair to the kitchen nook and climbed on to it. On the shelf above the sink was a small dented pot that they pretended was a pirate ship. Daddy had promised to make them a proper pirate ship from wood.

Leia launched the rebel ship from the base and zoomed around the room, patrolling the space and protecting the rebel base from wicked pirates and the bad Empire. She was the best pilot, as good as Daddy, and no one could catch her. Luke flew the pirate ship after her, jumping in front of it, and Leia shot the ship’s lasers with a great bang. The pirates dodged the shots and then swooped on the rebels and they all crashed hard, the pirate ship spinning and falling and exploding.

The bedroom door opened and Daddy stepped into the room. “This is you being quiet? This racket could wake the dead.” They had forgotten to play quietly and now Daddy sounded cross. Luke picked the pot from the floor; Leia was still clutching the ship in her hand. They didn’t like it, when Daddy was mad at them, and they muttered, “ _sorry_.”

“Gather your toys up and then go get dressed,” Daddy ordered them firmly. He looked grim; Leia and Luke knew his face looked like that when he was grumpy, and sometimes when he was tired or sad.

They put their things quickly back inside the trunk and then went to the bedroom. Obi-Wan was standing beside the bed; the board had been drawn aside and light came through the window. He turned to look at them and said softly, “It looks like it might stop raining soon. Perhaps, if the weather permits, you can go out to play today.”

That was a promise, and just the thought of going outside was exciting and they felt better. Leia pulled at the dresser’s middle drawer, but it was heavy and got stuck. Luke joined her and together they got it open. All of their clean shirts and tunics and trousers and socks and undergarments were there in neat stacks, Leia’s on the right side and Luke’s on the left side. Obi-Wan helped them find all the right clothes, but they put them on by themselves. Luke had to brush his hair while Obi-Wan braided Leia’s.

“Let’s see what your dad is making for breakfast, shall we?” Obi-Wan told them when they were ready, or as Obi-Wan sometimes said, when they were _looking civilized_.

But Daddy was not making breakfast; he was lifting a rucksack over his back, adjusting the straps. He was wearing his long coat and his boots.

“I want to go out with you!” Leia demanded, running to Daddy and grasping the sleeve of his thick coat.

“Later, sweetheart.” Daddy freed himself gently from her hold and took a step away. “I have to go gather up some firewood. You and Luke behave yourself until I get back, you hear?”

“Okay,” she promised, fighting back tears. Luke and Obi-Wan did not say anything, and Daddy opened the front door and vanished into the rain.

~o~

They had porridge for breakfast, and after their bowls were empty, Luke and Leia dashed to the window. Obi-Wan had drawn the shutters aside, and they could see into the yard, where everything was still grey and rainy. After clearing the table, Obi-Wan took out the pencils and the stack of flimsy, because it was time for _lessons_. They were not fun lessons like the ones where they practised using the Force, instead they had to learn about things like math and history and different plants and trees. Today they had to practise writing, which Luke didn’t like very much, because his letters were always wobbly, not neat like Leia’s. But Obi-Wan promised they could draw after the lesson, and he liked that. He would draw Daddy a picture of his starfighter, so when he got back Luke could give it to him.

Leia didn’t want to write words and she didn’t want to draw silly pictures. She wanted to go out and find Daddy and make him less sad. Obi-Wan wouldn’t let her though and she called him some wicked names, and if mommy had heard her, she would have put Leia into a corner for a very long time. But mommy wasn’t there – she had gone away and then Obi-Wan had come, and he didn’t get angry, no matter what she said. Leia felt bad and hugged him really tight.

So, they practiced their writing and then they drew and after that they played the board game and had a snack and then _finally_ Obi-Wan said they could go out. Luke and Leia had to put on their coats and scarfs and mittens, and like always, they had to promise not to leave the property. Leia was ready first and she dashed to the yard, not waiting for Luke, because he was so slow, fumbling with his boots. Luke ran after her and they both shrieked; everything was muddy and wet and fresh, the sun shining.

They chased each other around the cottage, laughing. Luke jumped into a big puddle, splashing water everywhere, and Leia joined him. She kicked mud towards him and then fled through the garden, Luke fast on her heels. He caught up to her near the edge of the yard, panting. There they noticed that the latrine was missing a roof and a door! Luke thought that perhaps some big animal – _a monster_ – had tore the wood away, carried the pieces to its lair in the darkness. Leia said that was stupid and dared him to peek inside. In the end, they decided to do it together, exactly at the same time. But there wasn’t anything interesting there, no evidence of a beast, and they backed away disappointed.

Obi-Wan had come to look at the latrine too. He stood right behind them, and if there was a monster nearby, it would not have dared to do anything with Obi-Wan there. Leia was glad that the latrine was broken, because she wouldn’t have to walk through the yard in the dark anymore, but then Obi-Wan said they would have to use the bucket. It was not fair; Luke’s throat felt tight. He remembered the proper fresher in their old room, and the tiny, but clean one on the ship. Suddenly he wanted to go back home so badly his tummy ached.

Leia’s mind curled around Luke’s, warm and soft, making him feel happy again. She wanted to play treasure hunters and that was one of Luke’s favourite games; they started their search for lost treasure from under the big tree at the edge of the property. The tree’s gnarly roots twined around its trunk like a snake, and one of the branches almost touched the ground. Sometimes they would climb the tree, and from high up they could see far away. But they weren’t allowed to do it by themselves, only with Daddy and Obi-Wan.

Kneeling in the muddy ground, they dug between the roots with sticks, but found nothing. The treasure was well hidden and they searched the garden and behind the latrine and all the good hiding places. Luke was the leader of the expedition and he had gotten a secret map from an old wizard. The map showed the location of a silvery cube that could grant wishes, and it looked like the cube Obi-Wan kept in his drawer, the one Leia and Luke didn’t have permission to touch.

They journeyed through the galaxy in their ship and searched through different planets, avoiding the pirates who were after the treasure too. Threepio was carrying their bags and tent and all of their equipment. Finally they found the magic cube; it had been hidden under a small bush. Not wanting to be seen by the pirates, they crouched low on the ground as they looked at the treasure. They touched it, silently making their wish. Leia imagined how mommy would find them, come back from one of her important missions, happy and smiling.

Then Obi-Wan called them back inside; Luke let go of the rock and clambered up, but Leia turned to peer at the open hillside. It was as empty as before.


	3. Anakin

The door banged shut behind the twins, and Anakin winced at the loud noise. He thought about closing his eyes, chasing sleep again, but instead he turned over on his right side and peered through the dimness to the other side of the bed. Obi-Wan was looking at him, mouth slanted into a wry smile.

“ _Morning._ ” Obi-Wan’s voice was scratchy from sleep.

“You’re certain it’s morning? It doesn’t, uh, feel like it,” Anakin griped without much heat, already resigned to having to get up soon. He could make out the familiar features of his former Master’s face with ease, or perhaps his memory added what his eyes could not see, completing the image. The high cheekbones and the straight nose, the pointed chin covered by neat beard. The sharp eyes under sleep-tousled hair.

“Your children certainly think it’s time to start the day,” Obi-Wan retorted dryly as clattering sounds came from the main room, followed by Luke’s clear voice saying, _we’re supposed to be quiet_. Obi-Wan huffed a laugh, amused.

“Not just yet,” Anakin muttered and shifted, kicking some of the covers off him. He sidled closer to Obi-Wan, until only a few inches remained between them. It was rare to have time alone together, for neither of them wanted the twins to be long out of their sight. Any adult conversations seemed to be few and far in between; serious topics were kept from being heard by small ears, plans only discussed without curious eavesdroppers nearby. The past was left for after dark.

“What is it?” Obi-Wan murmured, voice lowered to a soft, hushed whisper. 

Anakin’s answer was to inch his flesh hand underneath Obi-Wan’s pile of blankets, and to twine it around his Master’s wrist. Beneath his thumb, Obi-Wan’s pulse was steady and strong. Outside, the rain was still tapping on the roof, pattering against the window, but the wind had stopped raging and screaming in its fury. The storm had finally blown over, only vestiges of its power, like aftershocks following an earthquake, left on its wake. Those too would soon pass.

They lay like that for a moment, quiet. Looking at each other, breaths mingling.

Obi-Wan’s gaze was dark, hooded by shadows. He was not smiling anymore. Anakin closed the remaining distance between them and pressed his lips gently against the corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth, willing him to hear all he could not say.

“ _Anakin_ ,” Obi-Wan breathed warningly. He moved back slightly, creating more room between them. The rain got heavier, beating in time with Anakin’s heart. He let go of Obi-Wan’s wrist, flung the blankets aside and scrambled out of bed. In his haste, he bumped his hip against the chest of drawers, the pain sudden and sharp.

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s voice was carefully even. He had sat up; a bunched-up robe still covered his legs, woollen-clad toes peeking out. “You have to be certain – that’s all I meant.”

He thought he had been sure, and yet Anakin could hear his own doubt and guilt behind Obi-Wan’s words. Padmé had been in her grave hardly past a year. Anakin yanked his trousers and overtunic on, not bothering to find clean underwear. Wrenching the door open, he stepped to the main room, interrupting the twins playing rebels and pirates again. The old game did not make his mood any better. He told them to put their toys away and change out of their nightclothes.

Luke and Leia threw their things back inside the trunk without protest and then they dashed into the bedroom, leaving the door half open. Anakin could hear Obi-Wan and the twins talking as Obi-Wan helped them dress. As he listened, Anakin looked around himself. The light of the lone candle was enough to reveal the scuffed and old furniture, the small kitchen nook with its ancient equipment. The fireplace that had been cold for almost two days, because they had been too worried that they might run out of firewood. The dented pot that his children pretended was a pirate ship.

Everything Anakin cared about the most was inside the walls of the ramshackle cottage, and yet he couldn’t stand to be there a moment longer.

~o~

The rain had tapered off into a drizzle, grey haze enveloping the surrounding landscape like a mourning veil. Far out, in the edges of the horizon, a bright line split the sky; the clouds were slowly breaking. Anakin sat down on a flat rock, stretching out his legs. He took off the rucksack, rummaging through its meagre contents. A flask of water and a slice of bread would have to do for breakfast. He wondered what Obi-Wan had made for the twins – porridge probably. They had enough ingredients for that, and having made it so many times, they could practically do it in their sleep.

Anakin drew his long coat more securely around himself; beneath its cover, his clothes were damp. The brisk hike across the hillside had kept him from feeling the cold, but now it crept into his bones. He shuddered and rubbed his hands together merely from habit, the electrostatic fingertips of his mechno-arm simulating a sense of feeling and warmth. The illusion was quickly shattered, when one of the fingers twitched, out of sync with the rest. Anakin clenched the hand into a fist. He would have to take a look at the synth-net neural interface, tweak the mechanism yet again.

A shrill screech pierced the air; Anakin tilted his head and looked up. High overhead, a black shadow glided effortlessly, sailing with the wind currents, massive wings spread out. The avian circled Anakin, screeching again, a lone sound echoing in the desolate terrain of rocks and flattened grass, stunted bushes and twisted trees. He watched its flight, followed the ease of the graceful movements. Once, he too had flown through the skies, had raced among the stars.

A second shadow joined the first, and the two birds wheeled around each other, wingtips almost touching. Swooping down in perfect tandem, they swept past Anakin without giving him any notice, majestic and powerful. Their shrieks sounded now excited, _joyful_ , as they flew upwards, soaring together and disappearing into the clouds.

Anakin was alone again, the only living being as far as he could see. He had been certain it would be easier to breathe out there in the open, in the middle of nothing and close to no one. He had not counted himself though, the clamour of thoughts, the press of memories. As always, he was his own worst enemy.

After gulping down the bread, Anakin fastened the rucksack to his back and continued his trek. He did not have a specific destination in mind, more important was the action: the thud of boots against the ground, the stretch of muscle, the cool air filling his lungs. Moving at a fast pace, blood rushed quickly through his body, warming the chilled flesh. On cold nights, his men had always preferred to march if the alternative was to rest in the open at the mercy of the elements. Most of them, if not all of them, were dead now. Or at least Anakin hoped they were.

Eventually, he found himself at the lake. Oval-shaped, the water level lower than the steep rocks on either side, it resembled a big basin. Anakin stood on the bank, looking at the choppy surface. It was a heaving dark grey mass, except where the peeking sun touched the water, creating a kaleidoscope of dazzling colour. The lake stretched about ten miles from where Anakin was standing to the opposite shore. Obi-Wan had tried to catch fish there, sitting on the rock, a simple fishing rod cast on the water. He had never caught anything, the bait insufficient or the fishes too wily. Or perhaps the water was as empty as it was cold and deep.

When the season finally changed, growing warmer and milder, they could take the twins there, make a day of it. Luke and Leia could explore the shoreline, Obi-Wan could try his luck at fishing again. Anakin would offer him unhelpful advice as he played with the twins. They could all swim in the lake, fling water at each other.

On Dantooine, there was a lake near the rebel base. Between a small forest and a wide expanse of grassland, it was a splash of glittering blue amongst all the various shades of green. The twins had learned to swim there, Anakin hovering anxiously beside them, ready to support their weight, hold them up. He hadn’t needed to; both had learned quickly, encouraged by their mother’s happy cheers. Once, he and Padmé had sneaked there, just the two of them. Even in the pale moonlight, her face had glowed with warmth and colour. She had laughed so brightly, when he had tickled her beneath the water; sighed deeply, in peace, as they had finished making love, her heart beating against his own.

Her laugh echoed in their children’s mirth, their clear eyes mirrors of her soul. If he let it, her peace soothed Anakin’s heart, her steadfast belief for a better tomorrow. These were the only places where she could live now, the only way for him to have her.

~o~

Anakin travelled the last few miles to the cottage in the darkness of the night. Although his eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, the journey home was slow. He was carrying a heavy load, and it appeared as if every root and rock tried to trip him up. Finally, he saw a lone light fluttering in the distance, like a butterfly trapped in a glass jar. Obi-Wan had left the lantern outside, right next to the front door.

He set down the big wooden plank he had been carrying and rested it against the latrine wall. Luckily the door was still in one piece; tomorrow, he would try to put it back to its proper place. There was a lot of work to be done, tomorrow and every day after that. But for now, it could all wait. Anakin continued to stand there for a moment, at the edge of the yard, looking at the wide sky. All the clouds had scattered, leaving behind a black canvas dotted with silvery stars. The air was tangy and sharp; the night grew colder still. It was time to go inside.

In the front room of the cottage, a fire was burning in the hearth. Obi-Wan was sitting at the table, finishing cleaning his lightsaber. As Anakin shut the door behind himself, stepping further into the tingling warmth, Obi-Wan watched him, inscrutable. Ravenous, Anakin wasted no time gulping down the dregs of the supper straight from the pot. While he ate, Obi-Wan started mending socks, and Anakin followed the dexterous movement of his fingers. Obi-Wan’s hands were adorned with small nicks and scars, the imprint of his weapon a permanent mark on the skin. His hands were that of a warrior.

After fetching out their last bottle of spotchka from its hiding place, Anakin took a seat right next to Obi-Wan, so close that as he sat down, their shoulders brushed lightly. Obi-Wan raised the bottle, toasting perseverance. Anakin watched as he tipped his head back and drank, throat rippling as he swallowed. Despite all it had cost, after everything they had been through, it truly felt like a miracle that they were there, sitting side by side with their own peculiar, fragile peace.

Anakin finally gathered enough courage to ask if Obi-Wan regretted it – regretted leaving the fight and what remained of the Jedi, so much of what mattered to him, to help a broken man and two grief-stricken children.

“I don’t regret a thing,” Obi-Wan answered, definite and honest. His piercing eyes were fixed on Anakin as he handed the bottle back to him.

The weight of Obi-Wan’s gaze was too heavy, and Anakin turned his face away from him, looking at the dented pot on the shelf. He took a long drink, the alcohol pleasantly heating his insides. “Do you think it was right, to come here, to leave the Rebellion and try to raise children in a place like this? We have so little to offer them here. I wanted – _she_ wanted – so much more for them.”

Obi-Wan leaned slightly towards him, just enough for his shoulder to press against Anakin’s. He took his time answering. “They have a place here to heal, to grow up without being hunted, without having to be afraid that their father won’t come back from a mission. They have each other and people who love them. That’s more than many have.”

“I know.” Anakin drank the last of the spotchka, placing the empty bottle on the table. The glass gleamed in the firelight. “But sometimes I feel like we are here more for me than for them.” He thought about the all-consuming anger, the revenge that hollowed out his soul. Out there, among their allies and enemies, it was so easy to stop at nothing, to lose himself in the fight and never come back again.

“Perhaps,” Obi-Wan said softly, “but someday that won’t be the case anymore.”

Anakin turned his gaze back to Obi-Wan, meeting his Master’s solemn grey-blue eyes. “There is one thing _I am_ certain about – this.” He took Obi-Wan’s hand in his own. There was a small smudge of blood on one of the fingertips. He drew it gently to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. Then he kissed the joints, the knuckles, the back of the hand. All the while Obi-Wan continued to watch him intently, silent and hardly breathing.

“Let me,” Anakin whispered, “let _us_.”

Obi-Wan’s answer was to close the distance between them and seal his lips against Anakin’s own, tease his way inside Anakin’s mouth, licking and tasting. The unwavering kiss wrenched an inarticulate sound from Anakin, from somewhere deep in him, a place that trembled like a wounded thing.

After, Anakin rested his forehead against Obi-Wan’s, sighing deeply. “I’m sorry.” _For today. For everything._

Obi-Wan’s hand stroke the back of Anakin’s neck, his fingers drawing soothing patterns against the skin. “It’s late. Let’s go to bed.” And just like that Anakin was forgiven. Again.

Anakin made sure the front door was secure, while Obi-Wan cleared the table. Only a few small flames were still quivering in the fireplace, and they left the fire to burn itself out. When Anakin opened the door to the bedroom, the faint light from the hearth spilled inside the dark space, revealing two small lumps on the bed, covered by blankets.

Leia was laying on her stomach, messy hair fanned out across her pillow. She was snuffling, deep in sleep, her snub nose turned to Obi-Wan’s side of the bed. Luke was on his side, curled up. As quietly as he could, Anakin slipped under the covers, carefully moving Luke, so Anakin had more room and wasn’t hanging half out of the bed.

“Daddy?” Luke murmured, eyes closed tightly, still mostly asleep. Anakin kissed his brow and promised, “Yeah, I’m here.”

~o~

_“All the gods, all the heavens, all the hells, are within you.”_

Joseph Campell


End file.
